I shrugged. “I don’t know her last name. I never asked. I’m telling you, I don’t think I’ve exchanged twenty words in my life with her.”

“I went to school with a Sharonne Phillips.”

“Really?” Now, it was my turn twist toward Dru. “So does she still live in New Orleans or is she here in D.C.? Do you think she’s the one seeing Jeremy and....”

Dru held up her hands like a stop sign. “Wait with the twenty questions. I don’t know her like that,” she shook her head, “but I know her well enough. We were acquaintances back in high school. We were cheerleaders and hung out a few times.”

“Dang.” I leaned forward and looked across the Potomac to Virginia. Even though it was about four in the afternoon, there were plenty of people strolling across the edge of the river. Folks playing hooky from government jobs. It was that kind of beautiful day on the outside. But a storm raged inside of me. “What are the chances of this?”

“I know, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The Sharonne Phillips I know may not be the Sharonne that you’re looking for.”

“I wish I had a picture or something to show you.”

“Well, what does she look like?”

I described the leggy woman with the almond shaped eyes, butterscotch skin and expensive weave that stopped just above her behind.

Dru nodded. “The woman I know is about that complexion, she’s tall, like the one you’re describing. It’s been awhile, though, and when I knew her she had a short haircut, not a weave down her back.”

“Yeah,” I said feeling a little encouraged. “She had a bob back then. I think it’s the same woman, Dru. Now, I have to find out if she’s involved with Jeremy and if she’s pregnant.”

“So, she wasn’t pregnant when you saw her?”

I shook my head. “Far from it. If she was pregnant then, she was in her first few weeks.”

“So if she’s that early in her pregnancy,” Dru began, “how did Sonya and Cecily find out so quickly?” She shook her head and continued before I could answer. “I think they got this wrong.”

“Unless it’s a different Sharonne.” The hope I’d felt just seconds ago was beginning to fade fast.

“Look,” my best friend scooted closer to me, “I know this is really tough for you and I’m sorry, but don’t make any judgments yet. Let’s figure this Sharonne twist out first. And I have an idea.”

“What?”

“I wanna talk to Sharonne Phillips.”

“You think she’ll talk to you if you call her?”